Fourth Wall
by catharsys
Summary: In which Cloud, Denzel and Marlene talk about Cloti fans over dinner, and Tifa gets a surprise.


**SUMMARY:** In which Cloud, Denzel and Marlene talk about Cloti fans over dinner, and Tifa gets a surprise.

**A/N:** I woke up this morning wanting to write something that breaks the fourth wall. Being a noob at writing humor fics, this drabble is purely experimental. Much to Cloud Strife's misfortune, I chose him as my guinea pig.

**DISCLAIMER:** I own Clou—I mean, nothing. *cries in a dark corner*

_**Best viewed in 1/2!**_

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**FOURTH WALL**

"Cloud, when will you ask Tifa to marry you?" were the words that started it all.

Dinner had been going smoothly, even with the absence of Tifa's scrumptious home-cooked meals—that meant Cloud, Denzel and Marlene enjoying a sinful pizza delivered to Seventh Heaven.

However, at Denzel's sudden question, the man subjected to the query almost choked on the mouthful of pepperoni pizza he had just been swallowing.

"Denzel, I—we're not—" came Cloud's words, which seemed to verbalize faster than his brain dictated.

"Don't say you're not _like_ _that_, Cloud. We know you love her and she loves you back," Marlene interrupted, sounding like pre-school teacher getting a little impatient.

"Yeah! A lot of people think so too!" Denzel added as he took a huge bite off his pizza. The joyful expression in his face was quickly replaced by panic when Marlene gave him a reprimanding look. Cloud never missed furtive communications like that, and so he came to the conclusion that the kids were hiding something.

"Who might these people be?" Cloud asked, pretending he hadn't noticed anything.

"Cloti fans! They're all over the Internet!" exclaimed Denzel before he could stop himself.

"Denzel!" Marlene hissed, even though she knew it was too late. She stole a hesitant glance at Cloud, who was quite surprised at Denzel's answer.

"Cloti fans? Internet? Have you been doing something illegal?"

"No! We're not doing anything illegal," Marlene explained, "Cloti fans are people devoted to you and Tifa's relationship. 'Cloti' is your name plus Tifa's."

Despite himself, Cloud felt a bud of curiosity starting to bloom in the corner of his recluse mind. Being the supposed father figure that he should be though, he chose to cross his arms over his chest and raise a questioning eyebrow instead.

"And this so-called Internet?" he asked, trying to sound stern.

"Well, the Internet is—it's this—uh," Denzel fumbled with his words; his scrunched up forehead showed his attempt to explain properly. "There are gazillions of stuff in it, like pictures, news, stories, games and uh… People just put it there. All you need is a computer and an Internet service provider," he breathed out.

"And since when did we have a computer and an Internet service provider here?" Cloud pushed further.

"We don't. Yuffie has."

Cloud scratched the back of his head, still trying to keep up with the father figure image he had initiated. "So that's where you two have been going after school, huh? Just because Tifa is sick in bed and I have deliveries to do doesn't mean you can go around and poke your noses into this Internet thing you speak of. I'm gonna have to tell Tifa, and you can expect your buddy Yuffie to be out of reach for a long time."

"Please don't tell Tifa!" both kids pleaded.

"She'll ground us for a week!" Marlene said.

"Or worse, she'll feed us only vegetables for a month and make us clean the bathroom for half a year and force us to watch sappy movies with her for the rest of our damned lives!" Denzel proclaimed, almost rising from his seat.

"Denzel, that's ridiculous. Tifa would never do that," Cloud couldn't help but chuckle. "And don't curse."

"But still, don't tell her. Please, Cloud."

"Besides, aren't you curious about what Cloti fans write? Cloud?" Marlene pried.

It was in that instance when Cloud's authoritative demeanor faltered for a split second. But it was enough to turn the tables.

The fallen "father figure" cleared his throat unsurely. "Would you tell me then, the things you've been reading from these Cloti fans?"

Marlene and Denzel heaved a sigh of relief. The former proceeded to explain: "Well, they write these stories called fanfiction. They're mostly about you and Tifa, but sometimes Denzel and I are there, too! Most of them are very romantic, others are funny and some are tragic."

"One story even made Marlene cry," Denzel interjected with a snicker.

"It _was_ tragic!" Marlene pouted. "Anyway, Cloti fans have written stuff Denzel and I have seen between you and Tifa. At first we couldn't believe how they _knew_ but then it doesn't matter, right? Because they're true and just goes to show that a wedding should be planned right away!"

"What _stuff between me and Tifa_?" Cloud asked, his voice a mixture of horror and incredulity.

Denzel answered as-a-matter-of-factly, "You know, the constant worrying, awkward silence, secret glances, jealousy—"

"Jealousy?"

"Yeah! Every night there's at least one customer trying to hit on Tifa and your death glare says it all," the boy asserted.

Cloud could not begin to fathom the perplexity this dinner conversation had formed into. So far, he heard nothing that could stop him from reeling on the edges of his sanity, or what was left of it. On one side, he wanted to know how the kids managed to observe the _stuff between him and Tifa._ On another, he strived to understand the mystery that was the Cloti fans. Somewhere in between, he just wished Tifa and him were married _already_.

"See?" Marlene's tone hinted victory. "If it's about your feelings and hers, Cloti fans are mostly on the right track. You love her, she loves you. They just make up stories revolving around this fact. Like this oneshot about all of us having a picnic at night and you and Tifa wander off to watch fireflies."

"Fireflies, huh?" Cloud finally gave up and allowed the kids to retell the stories they remembered.

"There are tons of 'em!"

At that cue, both Denzel and Marlene began to narrate fanfictions they'd thought were brilliant, humorous, fluffy, absurd and so on. Nearly all the time, Cloud would shake his head in amusement, despite himself. Sometimes, his eyes would widen and his jaw would drop in indignation (one story was about Tifa kicking him down the stairs because his marriage proposal was the suckiest of all, to say the least). Once in a while, he would have the urge to interrupt and defend himself for Cloti fans were apparently fond of making him the most un-romantic idiot ever. But there was this case when he almost fell out off his chair:

"…love her but you think you're not good enough for her, then it talked about windows and stars and waiting, which I didn't really understand. It became more confusing when you and Tifa kissed and ended up dancing in bed. I just don't get it. What's that supposed to mean?" Denzel innocently faced Cloud.

"Shouldn't those things be censored?" was all Cloud could respond after regaining his balance.

"But why should writing about waltz and tango be censored?"

"Uh, never mind," came the reply. The hero of AVALANCHE dared not to be the book of knowledge for the kids' dangerous curiosity. "What other stories are there?" he said, steering the conversation to another route.

As Cloud drank his soda, Marlene relayed another story, "There's this one chapter where Daddy finds you dangling outside Tifa's window, in your boxers."

A considerable amount of soda almost shot out of poor Cloud's nostrils and a painful surge of fizz rushed through his throat.

After retrieving his normal breathing, he finally stood up and declared, "That's it. I'm telling Tifa."

"Cloud, NO!"

A wave of protests, pleas and appeasement reverberated through the dining area, until Marlene's desperate statement stopped Cloud from his tracks.

"They're not as bad as you think! You should try reading some!"

And that was more than enough to get Cloud back to his chair. No sooner than the moment he sat down, the three began to device a plan on how they would sneak out to get to Yuffie's place.

.

.

.

A couple of days later…

Tifa stirred from her sleep. Letting the morning sunlight into her eyes, she woke with a much better feeling than from previous mornings. Sitting up on her bed, she felt positive that her fever had gone down significantly. The lady reached out to her bedside table to grab a thermometer, but found a small cream envelope instead. It was for her, from Cloud.

Smiling, she opened the flap and found a simple yet classy diamond ring. Her heart fluttered as she tried it on—perfect fit. Feeling the euphoric sensation of the ring on her finger, Tifa proceeded to read the note:

_I intended to wait until you're feeling better, but I'm afraid you might kick me down the stairs if my proposal sucked, and it probably would._

_I love you._

Tifa felt an excited smile crawl up her lips. At last she stood up to drink her medicine, thinking to herself that she really _should_ get better so she could kick Cloud down the stairs.

.

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**A/N:** There might be several grammatical errors floating around here. Will edit them soon. I'm too sleepy to proofread. So, how was it? I hope you enjoyed! Review?

**UPDATED A/N:** The fanfiction Marlene mentioned--about Cloud in his boxers, dangling outside Tifa's window--is from Horky's Diaries of a Broken Man. I just started to read it again and before getting to that particular chapter, I remembered what actually happened. It wasn't Barret who saw Cloud; it was Cid. And the window wasn't Tifa's; it was Cloud's. I thought of altering this fic according to that, but I think Barret's character would have more effect on Cloud when it comes to Cloud's relationship with Tifa so I'd keep this as it is.


End file.
